Twists, Turns, and Takeovers
by Stars-and-Stones
Summary: It's 5th year and Potter's finally fallen from his pedestal. Draco thinks it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. But when a Potions mishap puts Draco in Potter's place, is he able to handle it? Eventual DracoXHarry; rated M for a reason
1. Incommesurable

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Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter and/or Draco Malfoy, I would not be wasting my time _writing_ about their love affairs. I would be _watching_.

****

Summary: It's 5th year and Potter's finally fallen from his pedestal. Draco thinks it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. But when a Potions mishap puts Draco in Potter's place, is he able to handle it?

****

Warning: Umbridge hatred (though I think everyone likes that); strong language; Seamus Finnegan bashing; BOY-ON-BOY: this is a DracoXHarry fanfiction. If you don't like it, DON'T READ IT. There _will_ be mature scenes (sex, masturbation. Not hard to understand that 15 year old boys get horny). IT'S RATED M FOR A REASON. That is all. And yes, this was inspired by Freaky Friday (the BOOK, not the movie. Movie SUCKED and followed nearly nothing from the book).

This is set during the fifth book.

* * *

**Twists, Turns, and Takeovers: Prologue**

_**Incommensurable**_

* * *

"Oh, look, there goes our _Savior_." Draco sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Potter glared back at him. "Shove off, Malfoy."

"Why should I? You can't go a damn thing about it, remember? _I'm_ a prefect." Draco pointed to the badge on his chest. "That means I can do whatever I want!"

"Piss off, Malfoy." Weasley snapped. "I'm a prefect too, remember _that_? You can't just prance around as if you own the place, so shut up, before I rip your damn mouth off!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for vulgar language." Snape's soft, dangerous drawl came from behind the Gryffindors. Draco smirked victoriously at Potter, who glared back with venom. The students filed into the dungeon classroom. Draco felt like whooping as he saw a couple of Gryffindors shove past Potter and his gang. It was a _fantastic_ year so far - Potter was _hated_! Finally, Draco was above Potter.

Damn well took long enough.

Draco took his seat next to Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. He nearly cheered when a Gryffindor actually _got up_ to move from his seat next to Potter. "I don't think I've ever been happier before in my life." he crowed victoriously.

"That's sad, Draco." Blaise commented nonchalantly, scribbling something down in his notebook like the studious little prat he was.

"I don't care at this point." Draco leaned back in his chair and blew an over-exaggerated kiss to Potter when the raven looked over. Potter scowled, and gave Draco a two-fingered gesture that lost Gryffindor another ten points.

"Now, if everyone's done being inarticulate buffoons, turn to page one-hundred ninety-six in your books. Today, we shall be brewing a potion that shall help one get inside the mind of an enemy. It is called Elixir of Veritas, which means '_there is truth'_." Snape went on to explain the specific properties of the potion. Draco tuned him out, instead focusing on Potter.

He looked _exhausted_. Draco almost felt bad for him. _Almost_. It did him some good to not look so damned happy-go-lucky all the time. The boy's skin was sickly pale, and he had dark purple bags under his eyes that rivaled their Defense professor from third year's. Potter's head kept drooping, and once or twice he nearly slammed his forehead against his textbook. He had an expression on his face that made him look as if he was either going to crack and kill them all, or break down and cry. Draco was hoping for the second, it would have been _amazing_.

A small ball of crumpled parchment flew from the back of the Gryffindor section of the dungeons and hit Potter in the back of the head. Aside from his knuckles whitening around his quill, he showed no sign of noticing. Draco snickered. Oh, what a lovely day it was.

Blaise kicked Draco under the table. Draco scowled as he rubbed his shin. "Are you paying attention? This is a hard potion."

Draco rolled his eyes, dismissing Blaise's concern. "I could do this in my sleep."

"Come on, then. Help me set this all up or we'll fail." Blaise cleared the table of their books and set up the two cauldrons. Technically, they were supposed to work in pairs instead of groups, but Draco and Blaise never saw the harm in helping each other make two potions. Crabbe and Goyle were both rather useless at Potions. Snape never said anything, and so it was how they had always brewed. It was better that way. Draco sent Goyle for the ingredients, and had Crabbe find the page.

"You're a lazy tosser." Blaise scowled. "Do you ever do anything?"

"I'm _supervising_." Draco said innocently.

"True to Malfoy style." Blaise shot back.

"I dare you to say that to my father."

"Why do you always assume that I would be that stupid?"

The four managed to make it through about half the potion's instructions before a startled cry brought their attention to the other side of the dungeon.

"Neville, _no_!" Granger shrieked. "You can't add that yet, I _told_ you -"

The rest of her sentence was cut off as Longbottom's cauldron exploded. Potter, the closest to the cauldron as he was Longbottom's partner, was thrown forward harshly over the desks. Draco could have sworn that he saw Potter shove Longbottom out of the way first. Typical Gryffindor. He landed with a sickening crunch (that Draco hoped hurt) on the cold stone floor, and didn't get up. The rest of the class started screaming as the cauldron began spitting up lava-like spurts of potion. Anything touched by the green liquid instantly began smoking, and it started a frenzy of students running as far away from the cauldron as possible.

"Uh, Draco?" Blaise peered cautiously over the rim of one of their cauldrons as it began to emit plumes of leaf green smoke. "I don't think it's supposed to turn yellow."

Draco frowned. No, that was wrong. It should be _green_, like the colour of the smoke. Yellow was a very bad colour for the potion itself to be. When he checked the potion to make sure that it was yellow, and simply not a very light green, sure enough, it was daffodil yellow.

Oh shit.

"Back up," Draco ordered in a wavering voice. The smoke was drifting all around his head, entrapping him in a cocoon of sweet-smelling haze. "We let it simmer for too long. Oh, fuck, this isn't good -get away from the smoke!"

"What's going to happen?" Blaise was nearly six feet away and was still backing up.

"The fumes…" Draco felt lightheaded. "…Poisonous…"

The room swayed and spun. Draco was dizzy and felt highly nauseous. His mouth went dry, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his eyesight blurred. He saw Potter stand up out of the corner of his eye. The raven held his right arm close to his body, and when he looked up Draco was caught in the firm gaze of a pair of strong green eyes. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from the green, even as the room spun in fast circles. He was vaguely aware of the sensation of falling before everything went black.

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I'm baaa~aack! 3 Did ya'll miss me?

I wasn't going to post this until after I finished replying to all of the reviews from Baby Mama Drama, but I'm beginning to think that may never happen. *faints* There's so many! It may take me a while, but I promise I _will_ reply to everyone! That's one thing you can always count on - if you sign in, I will reply. :) And I want to thank everyone again for all of the reviews, faves and alerts! It really makes me happy, and helps me out when I'm having a bad day. =D

So, this shouldn't be too long of a story, somewhere between 5 and 10 chapters. But, knowing me, it'll run away from me and end up being 20, 25 chapters. XD This is the prologue, and I hope that you like the rest of the story! The updates will very probably be spaced far apart, simply because I'm rarely on my computer at all nowadays. I didn't think it'd be this hectic, but ever since I started school in September life has been out of control! It should be a little better now, since I'm done with soccer and I can't go skiing until there's more snow on the ground. XD I didn't think my junior year of high school would be this crazy, but it is! :O And college hunting - my GOD, don't get me started on that. :) So, anyways, I'll be updating this story, but it may take a while inbetween updates. Just stick with it, I'll make sure I finish it! :)


	2. Tag

******Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter and/or Draco Malfoy, I would not be wasting my time _writing_ about their love affairs. I would be _watching_.

**Summary: **It's 5th year and Potter's finally fallen from his pedestal. Draco thinks it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. But when a Potions mishap puts Draco in Potter's place, is he able to handle it?

**Warning: **Umbridge hatred (though I think everyone likes that); strong language; Seamus Finnegan bashing; BOY-ON-BOY: this is a DracoXHarry fanfiction. If you don't like it, DON'T READ IT. There will be mature scenes (sex, masturbation. Not hard to understand that 15 year old boys get horny). IT'S RATED M FOR A REASON. That is all. And yes, this was inspired by Freaky Friday (the BOOK, not the movie. Movie SUCKED and followed nearly nothing from the book).

This is set during the fifth book.

* * *

**Twists, Turns, and Takeovers: Chapter One**

_**Tag**_

* * *

Draco's head hurt. Rather badly, actually. It felt like someone had taken a Beater's Bat to his temple. He groaned, and forced himself to open his eyes. The world around him was very blurry. He could barely see.

_Great Merlin, I've lost my sight!_ he thought frantically. His hand flew to his eyes, as if his fingers could magically repair his damaged eyesight.

"Oh, good, you're awake." Madame Pomfrey's voice came from somewhere to his left. Draco struggled to sit up, and gasped as shooting pain ran up his right arm.

"Be careful, you broke that when you fell." Madame Pomfrey scolded good-naturedly. "Normally I'd heal it with a quick spell, but our Inquisitor thinks it'd heal best left alone." The bitterness was evident in her voice. "She threatened to go to the Minister, and quite frankly, I felt our Headmaster has too much on his plate without having to deal with the Minister on yet another issue. I think you're old enough where you can handle healing a broken arm the Muggle way."

"Why can't I see?" Draco asked, betraying only a small portion of the panic he felt. He frowned. Something sounded off about his voice. As a matter of fact, everything about his body seemed off. He felt…stockier, and not nearly as lean or graceful or catlike as he normally felt. His muscles felt bigger, his hair hung in his face instead of being slicked back, and he never remembered his legs being quite that long before.

"You don't have your glasses on, sweetie."

Glasses? _Sweetie_?

Madame Pomfrey handed him a pair of ugly round glasses that looked very familiar. He put them on, and suddenly the world became crystal-clear.

"Wh-what happened?" Draco, though he would never, _never_ admit it, was scared. This wasn't his body, this wasn't his voice, god_damnit_, this wasn't _him_! Something was wrong; completely and utterly wrong.

"You were knocked out by Mr. Longbottom's potion when it exploded. Actually, when you dove in _front_ of the explosion to save Mr. Longbottom." Madame Pomfrey handed him a blue potion with a small look of both exasperation and admiration. "Drink this, then you can leave. It will help with the pain."

"A-alright." No. No. No no no no no no no no no no -

Draco caught sight of his reflection in the silver tray that lay next to his bed that had carried his potion to him. Shockingly green eyes stared back at him from under unruly black hair, which parted to show an infamous scar. His hand trembled as he lifted it to finger the small, yet distinguished, mark.

_MOTHERFUCKER_!

Draco ran down the halls towards the Slytherin dungeons. Or, at least, he tried to. How on _earth_ did Potter run with such gangly legs? It was _horrible,_ and downright impossible when one was used to being about four inches smaller.

_Alright, Draco, calm down. If you're in his body, he must be in yours. Find him - you - _it_, damnit - and go to Snape. It's the potion's fault, so there _must_ be an antidote. And if there's an antidote, Snape can fix it!_ Draco skid around a corner, tripped over his robes, and promptly sprawled face-first onto the floor. His glasses skittered across the ground and Draco screamed a loud, violent curse as his broken arm smashed into the unyielding stone. He cursed more violently when he heard a chorus of cruel, familiar laughter.

"What's the matter, Potty? Can't even stay on your own two feet, can you? Are you running from a mob of Hufflepuffs? Or have you seen the Loch Ness Monster in the Black Lake?"

Draco paled as he put a name to the voice. No. It couldn't be, it wasn't _possible -_

He looked up and saw his own body staring down at him, a sadistic sneer in place on his lips. Draco had never realized how unattractive he looked when he sneered. Of course, it didn't help that everything Draco saw looked as if he was looking through frosted glass. Potter's eyesight really was awful. Crabbe and Goyle, the ever loyal cronies, flanked the blonde on either side.

"What the fuck are you doing down here anyway, Potty? Trying to spy on the sneaky Slytherins?" Draco's body continued. "Could it be that you're running from the Mudblood and the Weasel, instead? Because I sure would be."

Draco was dumbstruck. It wasn't possible for Potter to be in his body, acting the part. That was _him_ - the insults, the sneer, the arrogant gleam in his bloody eye - _that was still fucking him_! If he was still himself, but he was also in Potter's body - where the fuck was Potter?

"Too scared to talk?" Malfoy sneered. "Fuck off, Potter, and get the hell out of my dungeons. If I see you down here again…"

Malfoy let the threat hang as he spun on his heel and stalked away, true to the Malfoy line. Crabbe gave Draco a death glare before joining Goyle behind the retreating blonde.

_What do I do now_? Draco wondered, still lying on the floor. He stood up, irritated when he found that he couldn't see. Son of a bitch -

"Accio glasses," he ground out. Potter's wand felt alien in his hand. It sent pulses of electric shocks up his arm, and his left hand held the wand awkwardly. Apparently Potter's wand arm was his right, which was currently broken and unable to be healed because of a fat old woman whose colour was _so_ not pink. Holding the wand in his left hand felt awkward, even though Draco himself was left-handed, and the wand probably didn't work as well as it could have. The glasses flew fast but wobbly to his hand and he put them on with distaste. Why the hell couldn't Potter have the Mudblood figure out a spell that would fix his eyesight? It would get rid of the damned eyesores that sat on his nose.

_So, off to Gryffindor Tower, then._ he thought miserably. He resigned himself to a fate worse than death - living with the stupid, boorish Gryffindors. _Where the fuck_ is_ Gryffindor Tower?_

After nearly an hour of searching, he was very nearly ready to just go back to the Hospital Wing, claim illness, and spend the night there. He would tell Madame Pomfrey that he was disoriented, or that he fell down a flight of stairs and was in too much pain to find his way. Knowing the bloody Golden Trio, the Mudblood and Weasel would be there in the morning if their precious Potter didn't show up that night and then _they_ could show him the way. Groaning, he started down a flight of stairs, hoping that he could find his way to the Wing before Filch or that stupid cat of his found him.

"_Harry_!"

The Mudblood's voice cut through the silence of the hall. Draco never thought he'd be _happy_ to hear the harpy's voice, but low and behold, he found himself nearly turning cartwheels. He turned and saw her running towards him, the redhead trailing behind her.

"Harry, we've been looking _everywhere_ for you! What are you doing by Ravenclaw Tower? Curfew's in ten minutes, you know that!"

_I should be nice to them or I'm really screwed._ Draco thought bitterly. _This would not have happened if Potter wasn't such a fucking moron!_ He tried to give her what he thought was a sheepish smile. By the look on her face, he had probably shown more of a grimace than a smile.

"Sorry. Just wanted some time to myself." He hoped that was something Potter would say.

Granger nodded as if she understood completely. "But why would you be this far so close to curfew? It takes almost fifteen minutes to get to Gryffindor from here, you should know that by now! I mean, we've only lived there for _five years_! And you _know_ that Filch is practically stalking you for that toad."

"Sorry." Draco winced. Did Potter apologize that much? Probably not. He'd think that he was right all the time. "I, er, lost track of time." There, that sounded like Potter. Too much of an idiot to actually look at a clock every once in a while.

Weasley looked at him suspiciously. "Mate, did you hit your head instead of your arm?" He pulled a silvery cloak out of his bag. "We don't care if you're out and about in the middle of the night. We were just worried when you forgot to grab this from the infirmary. It was next to your bag. Did you forget you had it today or something?"

"Oh." Draco stared at the cloak in incredulity. It shimmered and seemed to disappear as it fell from its folds in Weasley's hands. "Merlin, that's an invisibility cloak!"

The Gryffindors gave him a set of identical looks that clearly said they thought he was crazy. "Are you _sure_ you didn't hit your head?" Weasley persisted. "Cracked it against the floor or desk or something?"

"Shove off!" Draco snarled, before realizing that precious Potter didn't ever yell at his friends.

"Would you _please_ stop jumping down our throats all the time? We're trying to _help_ you, why is that so hard a concept for you to grasp?" Granger snapped, before Draco could retract the remark with a (completely insincere) apology. "Godric Almighty, I am getting so _sick_ of you yelling at us! And for nothing at all!"

Draco snarled under his breath, but managed to keep it from becoming too audible. "_Sorry_." He ground out. The damn Mudblood's voice was like nails on a blackboard, and it was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. If he had been glad to hear it earlier, that was no longer the case.

Granger smiled at him, accepting his totally insincere apology with absolution. "It's alright, I just wish you'd let up help you without getting so mad all of the time. It's not completely unheard of for friends to want to help one another, you know. In fact, it's almost expected."

"Yeah. Right." Draco shoved his hands into his pockets. He had a feeling that _Potter_ was going to be uncharacteristically quiet for however long it took Draco to figured out what was wrong, and figured out how to fix it.

"Let's get back to Gryffindor." Weasley flung the cloak over the three of them. He and Granger stood behind Draco, and looked at him expectantly.

_Of course Potter leads_. Draco grumbled.

"Could one of you maybe lead the way?" he asked quietly, trying out the sheepish smile again. He hoped is was a better try than the last one. "I'm still tired and disoriented from the explosion. I'd hate to get us lost down in the dungeons or something." He was sure that the Gryffindors would be able to hear the sarcasm that was practically dripping from his voice. But no, once again the Gryffindors proved their inability to pick up on anything that wasn't painfully obvious.

Weasley grinned. "Sure."

It actually took them nearly half an hour for them to reach the tower, mainly because Draco kept tripping over the Weasel or the Mudblood - "_Honestly, Harry, it's like you've never done this before!"_ - before they finally made it to a portrait of a fat lady dressed in a rosy pink dress. She was snoring rather loudly. Weasley nudged her frame with his foot and she woke up with a start.

"Wha- who's woken me up?" She grouched, rearranging her gown with a chubby hand tipped red nails. "I was having a lovely dream, you know."

"_Patronus_." Granger said clearly from under the cloak.

"Who's there? Oh, if it's you again, Peeves, I'm going to tell Dumbledore and then you'd regret it! Ooo, you would! And I'll tell you what -"

"_Patronus_." Granger repeated, louder.

" -I mean, it's quite _rude_, waking me up past curfew like that, and while I was having _the_ nicest dream, as I _told_ you -"

"_Patronus!_" Both Granger and Weasley shouted the password at her. The fat lady huffed.

"Oh, very _well_ then!" She swung open, cursing Peeves quite colourfully. "If I get the first years complaining about you getting into their knickers again -" Her portrait door swung shut before she could finish the threat as the trio scrambled into through the opening and stumbled into the Gryffindor common room.

"Merlin's pants, she's a pain." Weasley grumbled, dragging the cloak off and shoving it towards Draco. Draco accepted it, reveling in how soft the material felt like nothing but air. He folded it carefully and slung it over his arm, spreading his fingers over the gorgeous material. And it was all _his_. Like hell if he was ever giving it back to Potter.

"I _should_ make you finish your homework." Granger sighed. "But I suppose it can be done tomorrow, in the library. But it will get done!"

Weasley grinned. "Wicked! Thanks, Hermione. You'll help me with my Potions essay?"

Granger flushed. "You know as well as I do that I will, no matter how much I try to convince you to _do your own work_. Go on, get Harry to bed." She peered at Draco with concern in her eyes. "He looks ready to pass out."

In truth, Draco was trying very hard not to gag at the nauseating display of pre-romantic talk. It was blatant to all but the two bad-haired idiots before him that they would end up together.

Weasley grabbed Draco by the crook of his left arm, and began to drag him unceremoniously up a flight of stairs off to the left of the common room. Draco stumbled behind him, trying to keep up. He had never realized that the Weasel was nearly four solid inches taller than Potter, and it was hard to keep up with the redhead without falling over his own two feet. Since when had the two token Gryffindorks been so bloody tall?

Draco had to admit that it was rather cozy in the lion's den, especially in contrast to the harsh, cold dungeons of the Slytherin dorms. A roaring fire flickered merrily in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows over everyone in the room. He could see the stars out of several high-placed windows, as well as a beautiful view of the Forbidden Forest out a large picture window set between the two sets of spiraled stairs. Gryffindors were scattered around the room, all in pajamas or Muggle clothes, chattering away happily. It seemed in the celebration of a beautiful Friday night, no one wanted to stay in their school robes any amount of time than was strictly needed. Only a couple were doing homework, while the rest engaged in games of chess, Exploding Snap or Gobbstones, and gossiped about recent events, creating a quiet hum of conversation that hung around the room. The atmosphere was light-hearted and welcoming, and the _horrible_ colours of red and gold that were displayed everywhere weren't all _that_ garish. It was much more inviting than the cool severity of the Slytherin common room, which had tapestries draped over stone walls, and furniture made of sharp corners and dark wood.

A tall black boy from their class - his name was Thomas, Dean Thomas, Draco remembered - stood from his spot next to the Weasel's sister and a couple of other younger Gryffindorks, and came over.

"Neville's a mess." He told them cheerfully. He grinned and nudged Draco's shoulder with his own, careful not to touch the cumbersome cast. "He thinks he killed you. He might have a heart attack if you see him now, so be careful when you go up there. Maybe you should send someone up to tell him you're okay before you actually show your face."

Weasley groaned, his hand still grasping Draco's elbow. "Fantastic. He's going to be just like Creevey now! I should think one's enough!"

"Hiya, Harry!" A small boy ran down the stairs, a couple of books in his hands and a fanboy grin on his lips.

"Speak if the devil." Weasley muttered.

"Are you alright?" Creevey asked speedily. "I heard what happened - the whole school has! I think it was really brave of you to pull Neville out of the way! I wouldn't have been able to do it, I don't think, but you were and that's so amazing, but I guess that's why you're Harry Potter - I mean, _the _Harry Potter! You're so brave and strong and -" He caught sight of the cast on Draco's arm and gasped loudly. "Ohmy- couldn't Madame Pomfrey fix that? She's the best there is, couldn't she - ohmygod is it still broken because of _Umbridge_? Ooo, Harry, you know what you should do, you should go to Dumbledore! That's what you should do! He'll sort her out for sure, I know he will! Dumbledore can fix _anything_!" He pulled a camera out of nowhere and aimed it at Draco. "Can I take a picture? You'll need evidence, of course, and my dad always says that a picture's worth a thousand words so this picture will be the evidence and I can always take more if you need it cuz if anything can win an argument it's a good photo -"

Draco was speechless. Did the little leech ever _breathe_? Sweet Salazar, he couldn't even get a word in to tell him to shut _up_!

"Collin, Harry doesn't want his picture taken." Weasley said tiredly, yet patiently. It sounded as if he had repeated that particular sentence many times. He turned to Draco. "Do you, Harry?"

Before Draco could reply, a loud Irish accent cut him off.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You like all the attention, don't you, Potter?" The owner of the voice was another boy their age - Finnegan, was it? - showed up from nowhere, scowling. "What's the newest lie you're spreading? That all the Death Eaters got out because of You-Know-Who, not Sirius Black? That Black is actually innocent? Ha!" Finnegan snorted. "What a load of tripe."

"Why don't you go bugger off, Seamus?" Weasley snarled. The tips of his ears were turning bright red, a sure sign that he was growing dangerously angry. "No one wants to hear your crap right now."

Finnegan sneered. "Oh, _anything_ for the Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived!" He stormed off back to his seat. Draco noticed several pairs of eyes watching him, and was surprised to see that nearly all of them were hostile glares directed at their Savior.

_I thought he was Gryffindor's Golden Boy._ Draco thought bewilderedly as Weasley dragged him up the spiral staircase, muttering and cursing under his breath. _Why do so many of the Gryffindors look as if they'd like his head?_

"Ignore Seamus," Weasley muttered as he opened the door to what Draco presumed to be their dorm rooms. "He's just a bloody tosser, he doesn't know anything. He wasn't there. He didn't go through what you did.""Yeah." Draco rolled his eyes. He was sure it was _very_ traumatic to give a little blood and see the Dark Lord rise. Ooo _so_ scary.

"I mean," Weasley continued, getting angrier by the second. Draco could tell because the red spread from his ears down his neck. After all, you've got to know the warning signs of your enemy. At least this time Draco was pretty sure he wasn't going to get hit as a result. "Seamus didn't have to go through the Triwizard Tournament as the youngest contestant _ever_. He didn't have to out-fly a damn dragon and steal its egg. He didn't have to rescue his best mate from under the bloody Black Lake, even though he's terrified of water and drowning. _Seamus_ didn't have to go through that god-awful maze that had every dark creature and evil monster that Hagrid ever thought was cute and fluffy in it. _He_ didn't watch his dead parents' ghosts come out of the tip of You-Know-Who's wand, nor did _Finnegan _put himself under the protection of those ghosts! He didn't have to _duel_ You-Know-Who!" Weasley paused. "He didn't have to watch Cedric die." he added softly, looking at Draco with pity in his blue eyes.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, tearing his gaze away from the Weasel's. "Yeah, I know." _Okay, maybe it _was_ traumatizing. But only a little!_ But…

Why would Weasley call Diggory 'Cedric'? Draco thought that the trio hated the Hufflepuff, especially after he took Potter's not-so-secret crush to the Yule Ball. And what was with that look? It was the same look people had given his mother when his Grandmother had died.

"Bugger," Weasley cursed under his breath.

Draco started, and looked towards the direction Weasley was staring at. A lump that Draco presumed to be Longbottom lay curled on one of the five beds that made up the semi-circle in the room, shaking quietly.

"Alright, mate, go calm him down." Weasley sighed. "I'm, uh, …I don't feel like staying here for the waterworks, so I'm going downstairs. You coming back down later?"

Draco shook his head, then paused. Wouldn't Potter want to retell his story of saving Longbottom? With all the heroic details? Surely that would redeem himself in front of his loyal followers, and then they wouldn't be angry anymore.

"I thought not." Weasley shook his head, then turned and left the room, leaving Draco alone with a sobbing Gryffindor. Draco snarled, then looked cautiously towards Longbottom. How was he supposed to calm Longbottom down? Jump in front of him and yell "Surprise! I'm not dead!"? What good would _that_ do?

Draco supposed he should call him Neville or risk blowing his cover. The blonde gulped, and made his way over to Longbottom's bed. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, before clearing his throat. Longbottom looked up, and then struggled to sit up right when he realized who stood in front of him.

"Harry! I - you - oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" he babbled, wiping at his eyes and nose viciously. Draco tried not to balk at how much of a disgusting mess the fat boy looked. "I told you not to partner with me, I _told_ you! And you - you should know better! And then Malfoy collapsed - I thought Snape was going to _kill_ me!"

"Er," Draco struggled with what to say. "It's aright, really, I'm okay -"

"Your arm!" Longbottom stared bug-eyed at his arm, his mouth forming soundless words. "It - it's still broken! Couldn't Madame Pomfrey fix it? Is it broken really badly?" He grew more and more panicked with each word.

"It's fine." Draco said hurriedly. "I'll use my left hand, it's not problem, really -"

"But how are you going to play Quidditch?" Longbottom began to hyperventilate. "You have a game Saturday, don't you?"

Draco's face fell. Oh, son of a _bitch!_ That's right! Slytherin was playing against Gryffindor this Saturday. That meant _his_ body would be playing, and _he_ - in Potter's body - would have to play. He knew he couldn't fly as well as he could in his normal body while he was in Potter's, he could barely walk straight! And that's enough of a disaster without even considering his broken arm!

"Fuck," he muttered. "I forgot about that."

"Oh my god - Angelina's going to kill me!" Longbottom squeaked. "Ohmigodohmigodohmygod I'm gonna die!"

"It's alright!" Draco could only imagine Johnson's reaction. He shuddered. She embodied Wood's love for the game incredibly well. The only difference was that she was scarier. "I'll handle it."

Longbottom looked at him fearfully. "Harry, this game is really important. I'm not that big a Quidditch fan, and _I_ know I just fucked up bad. It's against _Slytherin_. Angelina's going to _kill me._ With her _broom_. Or a Beater's bat! I'm going to die!"

"I'll handle it!" Draco tried a reassuring smile which must have looked forced because Longbottom still looked terrified, as he right should. He was most likely going to die at the hands of Angelina Johnson. "Besides, we've got Weas - er, Ginny." he fought the urge to wrinkle his nose. He would have to start calling all the Gryffindor's by their first names. Except Finnegan. Draco would have to get even with him. He never liked Finnegan all that much to begin with.

Longbottom looked doubtful. "Harry, I like Ginny, I do. Really. But she's a better Chaser than Seeker, and she's nowhere near as good a Seeker as Malfoy! You're the only one who _can_ beat him, you're the only one who's _ever_ beaten him! Oh, Angelina's going to have my head!" he moaned.

"Neville," The name was foreign. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." Draco tired the reassuring smile again, and it must have been better because Longbottom smiled back tentatively.

"I thought…" he trailed off.

"What?"

He shuffled uncomfortably, and looked up at Draco through his bangs. "Nothing. I mean, well, I thought maybe I had…" Longbottom flushed, then hugged Draco tightly around his waist. "I'm really glad you're okay." he said quietly.

Draco patted the top of Longbottom's head awkwardly. He noticed that Potter was a good head taller than nearly everyone, except Weasley, the buggering giant. When had he - Potter - grown so tall? Draco distinctly remembered always being at Potter's height. But it seemed that this year, all the Gryffindors had grown a head and a half taller than everyone else in the bloody castle.

"Err," Draco pulled away from Longbottom. "Not that this isn't…_reassuring_, but I really just want to go to bed."

"Right!" Longbottom wiped his eyes hastily. He grinned a watery smile. "I'll go to the common room so you can have some quiet time." He smiled again, then left the room. Draco was finally alone in the dorm, and he couldn't be more relieved. He looked around, and found Potter's bed by the pair of extra glasses on the nightstand. Surprisingly, the bed was made nicely. Draco had expected a large nest of knotted sheets. He kicked off his shoes, shed his robe, and lay down. His fingers laced themselves together underneath his blonde head.

_What am I going to do_? he thought miserably. _I don't want to be Potter! I like being _me_, damnit!_

Grumbling, he turned over and forced himself to fall asleep. He would deal with everyone in the morning. It wouldn't be so bad. He could do this.

* * *

Holy crap, _how_ long has it been since I posted? I am so sorry it's taken me so long! I got so busy with all of my classes, and by the time school was over I didn't want to do anything but sit and relax for a long time. But I'm back now, and my Junior Year of High School is over! So I _should_ be able to post more often. However, I'm not making any promises. J

I pride myself on answering all reviews that are left on any of my stories, but I've been away for so damn long that I have over 2000 messages. I just can't go through it all, I'll go out of my mind! So everything's getting deleted. L Thank you all so much for all of the faves, adds and reviews! They mean so much to me, and I will answer the reviews that I get after I post this chapter. I don't have much written, so hopefully my writing style doesn't waver too much from the original prologue.

And let me just say, ohmygod Collin's fun to write. XD I like him a lot.

Just so you all know, all of the titles for the chapters are from Random . I didn't know how to title the chapters, so I decided whenever I put up a chapter, I'll go to the website, click the button and the first word that comes up will be the chapter title. Even if it's dirty. =D So about 90% of the time the title chapter won't make any sense.

But it sure is fun. =D


	3. Embedding

**Disclaimer**:If I owned Harry Potter and/or Draco Malfoy, I would not be wasting my time _writing_ about their love affairs. I would be _watching_.

**Summary**: It's 5thyear and Potter's finally fallen from his pedestal. Draco thinks it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. But when a Potions mishap puts Draco in Potter's place, is he able to handle it?

**Warning**: Umbridge hatred (though I think everyone likes that); strong language; Seamus Finnegan bashing; BOY-ON-BOY: this is a DracoXHarry fanfiction. If you don't like it, DON'T READ IT. There _will_be mature scenes (sex, masturbation. Not hard to understand that 15 year old boys get horny). IT'S RATED M FOR A REASON. That is all. And yes, this was inspired by Freaky Friday (the BOOK, not the movie. Movie SUCKED and followed nearly nothing from the book).

This is set during the fifth book.

* * *

**_Twists, Turns and Takeovers_**

**Embedding**

* * *

Longbottom was right. The day did _not_ go well for Draco at all. He had been woken abruptly after what seemed like only mere minutes by Weasley and dragged down to the Great Hall for a breakfast that he really didn't want. When they entered the Hall, the first thing Draco saw was Angelina Johnson shouting bloody murder at a trembling Longbottom.

Draco bristled. _Oh, shit,_ was the only thing that went through his head as Johnson turned her head, locked her sights on him and Weasley and headed over.

"What did you do?" she roared, braids swinging viciously around her head as she practically shook with rage. "You sodding _idiot_! First all the detentions with Umbridge, now _this_? This is an important game, Potter! You would have _never_ pulled this bullshit with Oliver, you son of a bitch! I should throw you off the bloody team for all the goddamn grief you give me!" The horrible girl looked ready to kill. Draco saw the Weasley twins whispering quietly to each other, sending fearful glances toward the angry Captain from their perch further down the Gryffindor table. One of them mouthed the words _We tried_ to Draco. Draco appreciated the effort but, obviously, they had failed miserably to calm the scorned woman. Draco had the feeling that before Longbottom had entered the Great Hall, the redheads had been the focal point of Johnson's anger.

"This isn't my fault!" Draco protested. He held up his arm as both a shield and an excuse. "My arm's broken!"

"So have Madame Pomfrey _fix it._" Johnson snarled. She looked, and sounded, all the world like a dark-skinned banshee.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" McGonagall's sharp voice cut in as she walked up to them briskly from the Head Table. "Miss Johnson! No one, especially not myself, wants to listen to a shouting match first thing in the morning! What on earth are you so upset about that this conversation could not wait until you were in a more private place?"

"Potter can't play Saturday!" Johnson raged, pointing an accusing finger at Draco as if he were the reason for everything wrong with her life. If Draco didn't know any better, he'd have said that Johnson sounded dangerously close to either hexing his bits off, or crying.

McGonagall's eyebrows from a sharp V on her forehead as her cat-like eyes locked in on Draco. "Mr. Potter, if you've landed yourself in another detention, so help me -"

"No, Professor, I haven't!" Draco said quickly. He'd never admit it to anyone, but Professor McGonagall was one of the few teachers who actually scared him when she was angry. He held up his encased right arm. "My arm's broken."

"And _how_ did this happen?" McGonagall was about as calm as an angry dragon. And about as safe as one, too.

"Neville's cauldron exploded in Potions yesterday, ma'am." Weasley cut in, saving Draco's skin. "Harry got blown back and broke his arm on the desk or floor or something."

"Then why hasn't Madame Pomfrey mended it? Broken bones are a matter of seconds for her." McGonagall demanded sharply. Johnson nodded fiercely in agreement and folded her arms. Draco had the feeling that if his answer wasn't completely satisfactory he was going to get hit, and hit hard. He thought that might hurt rather badly.

"She said the Inquisitor said she couldn't." Draco said meekly. He edged slightly behind Weasley, only to bump into someone. A shock of bushy hair came into his vision, and Granger gave him a smile as she grasped his hand reassuringly. Surprisingly, Draco actually felt better with someone standing next to him.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Did she, now?" she murmured. "Never mind that. She does _not_ have the authority, even if she thinks she does. Come along, Potter, we'll go to the infirmary together and I'll explain to Poppy exactly what she should _tell_ our High Inquisitor the next time she orders the blatant refusal of proper medical treatment for _any _student."

McGonagall swept out of the hall, and Draco followed morosely. It wasn't even nine A.M., and already Draco just wanted to curl up in a ball under Potter's covers and hide from the world. McGonagall walked quickly, looking murderous and barking at any student who had the misfortune of getting in her line of vision. Draco had to jog to keep up with the angry matriarch.

Once at the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey healed Draco's arm with a quick spell after a heated whispered discussion with McGonagall.

"I don't want to see you Saturday." she warned cheerfully. Draco, however, was able to catch the true warning. It was odd to be cared for in a friendly manner by the mediwitch. Normally she fixed whatever was wrong and sent you on your way with a stern farewell. But she treated Potter as if he were her grandson, or a favourite nephew.

"I shall have a talk with our Inquisitor." McGonagall said coldly. "She, and the Ministry, had _no right_ to refuse medical treatment to a student."

"I'll tell you the medical attention I'd like to give _her_." Madame Pomfrey grumbled. She flicked her wand and Draco's cast disappeared. He moved his arm cautiously, and gave the nurse a grateful smile.

"Thank you, ma'am." he said graciously. "Now maybe my Captain won't yell at me again."

Madame Pomfrey smiled. "Good luck, dear. I do hope Miss Johnson didn't reprimand you too harshly."

Draco grimaced. "She called me a son of a, er…well, the son of a _dog_, and then threatened to kick me off the team."

Madame Pomfrey chuckled. "She'd never ban you from the team, dearie. You're too good a player!"

Draco felt Potter's face colour with the compliment. Apparently, Potter's body flushed easily, regardless of whether or not Draco would have blushed in a situation.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall began as she escorted Draco back down to the Great Hall. "I know you have been…_temperamental _as of late. I think everyone in the castle understands that fact." She looked at Draco sternly over her glasses. "Do us all a favor and do _not_ lose your temper today in her class! We cannot afford to lose any more House points, nor can _you_ afford to gain another set of detentions."

Draco fought the temptation to sneer at her, succeeding only when he reminded himself that Potter only sneered at _him_. "Yes, Professor."

McGonagall's face lost its edge. "I know this is hard for you." she said gently, placing her hands on Draco's shoulders. "I can only imagine what you're going through. And I cannot say that I blame you for being short-tempered, or for wanting to simply scream in the middle of that wretched woman's class. But, as I've heard Muggles are fond of saying, what doesn't kill you, simply makes you _stronger_."

They arrived outside the Great Hall. "Now go eat," she said, pushing Draco towards the door. "I won't have you passing out in my class again."

The day was _hell_ for Draco. He couldn't walk down a hall without being tripped, shoved, or hexed. Granger was always quick with her wand and Weasley with his fists, but that never deterred Potter's - now Draco's - tormentors. His bag was split, his quills snapped, robes were torn and he was hit several times with well-aimed Stinging Hexes. By the time lunch came around, Draco was ready to just hand Potter's body over to the Dark Lord and be done with it.

"The day hasn't gone so bad." Granger remarked as Draco sat down heavily.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Draco snarled. "I've been attacked left and right!"

"No one's tried anything worse than a Stinging Hex." she pointed out. "And you haven't gotten into a fight with anyone yet. That's a rather good day, wouldn't you say? Last week you ended up in the Hospital Wing because of that group of Ravenclaws."

"But we've got Potions _and_ Defense after lunch." Weasley said wearily. "Good luck, mate."

Granger sighed. "Well so long as Harry doesn't scream at Umbridge," she gave Draco a pointed look. "And so long as he doesn't pair up with Neville or blow up his cauldron, he should be able to make it through the day without getting detention. Oh, that reminds me - don't forget that tomorrow night you have detention with Snape."

"For what?" Draco frowned. What the hell had Potter done?

Weasley, who had piled his plate high with food and was heartily digging in, answered through a full mouth of mashed potatoes. "For yesterday, duh."

"But I didn't make the cauldron explode!"

Weasley snorted. "No, but you should have 'had even the most _minute_ inkling that pairing with Longbottom was complete idiocy, so therefore taking the responsibility of making sure the buffoon didn't screw up.'" He recited, making air quotes with his fingers.

"That's not _fair_." Draco grumbled.

Granger rolled her eyes. "When is Snape _ever_ fair to you?" She began putting food on his plate, piling it up much higher than Draco had wanted. "Eat, Harry. We're going to have a late night tonight."

"What? Why? Do I have detention _again_?" If Draco was going to have to spend every night in detention, he was going to get hostile.

Granger looked around, her gaze darting from teacher to teacher. She leaned across the table. "No," she said quietly. "Did you forget about our DA meeting? Really, Harry, you need to get your mind and priorities in order!"

Weasley grinned, cheeks bulging. He said something Draco couldn't understand for the life of him.

"What?"

He swallowed. "I said, it's gonna be fun tonight! I've always wanted to stun someone."

What on earth was he talking about?

"Ron, hush!" From Weasley's yelp of pain, Draco deduced that Granger had kicked him under the table. "We don't need to talk about it!"

Draco ate as much as he could, and tried to tune out the Gryffindors. He snuck glances over to the Slytherin table, blood boiling as he watched _his_ body laughing with Blaise and Pansy as if nothing was wrong.

_What am I going to do?_ he never took his eyes off Malfoy. The blonde looked over and caught Draco's gaze. Malfoy smirked maliciously, and gave him the finger. Draco sneered in return, and saw a flicker of amusement dance through his - _Malfoy's_ - grey eyes.

Potions, surprisingly, went without too much trouble. Snape took a total of twenty-five points from Gryffindor because of trivial things that no other teacher would have taken points off for. Weasley graciously allowed him to pair up with Granger, and the redhead braced himself to be paired with a very green Longbottom. Draco thought it was very kind, not to mention very brave, of him. And also very stupid.

Granger was rather good at Potions, though not as good as Draco. But Draco allowed her to take control because Potter was complete pants at Potions. He stood by quietly, doing whatever instructions Granger barked at him. Once, though, he impressed her.

As she was about to add a Turntwig root, Draco grabber her wrist.

"What are you doing?" Granger asked, bewildered as she was broken from her trance.

"You had to add the bat wings first." Draco motioned to the instructions on the board.

"I already did -"

"No, the potion would be blue if you did. It's still clear." Draco tried not to sound too impatient.

Granger frowned, but checked the potion. Her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "Oh! Good catch, Harry!" she beamed at him the way a teacher would at a student who finally started showing his potential. "That would have had some very nasty consequences if you hadn't caught me."

"My, my, my. What have we here?" Draco turned with a jump and found himself face-to-face with Snape. The man's arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed and he looked down at Draco with a loathing Draco had never seen before in the eyes of his favourite teacher. "It seems you've been studying, Potter."

"I have, sir." Draco said boldly.

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. He stalked off without saying another word. Draco felt a thrill of satisfaction before Granger smacked him upside the head.

"Hey!"

"You're lucky he didn't deduct points for being a smartass." she scolded. "Now chop these worms into quarter-inch pieces, and for the love of _Merlin_, don't make them uneven again!"

But unpleasant as Potions and the rest of the day were, nothing could compare to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Wands away!" Umbridge sang out, tapping her wand smartly on a desk to prove her point. "Take out your books, and read chapter eight. There will be no need to talk."

Draco took out the book, mentally groaning. He had already read chapter eight, the entire class did. He hated when she made them re-read material, especially when they had all read it in class _last_ lesson. He sat between Weasley and Granger, as he did in all of their classes together. They served as a barrier, and Draco found them comforting, to his displeasure. He also found that they weren't the worst people to be around when everyone else in the bloody world was hell bent on giving Potter a new scar.

Granger took her book out and placed it on her desk, but kept it closed and raised her hand. Draco groaned, out loud this time. Here came another detention and a large loss of points.

Umbridge ignored the girl at first, but after ten minutes Granger still hadn't put her hand down. She was nothing if not persistent.

"_Yes_, Miss Granger?" Umbridge sounded as if she had only just seen the unwavering hand.

"We've already read chapter eight." Granger said matter-of-factly. "Last week." There was something ugly and sarcastic to her tone, even though she was perfectly polite. "I believe you said that we would be reading chapter nine today, after we reviewed chapter eight."

Umbridge gave her a smile that chilled Draco down to the bones. "Well, Miss Granger, I feel that the class must reread the chapter in order to truly understand it. Not _everyone_ is so much of a brownnosing little know it all that they take it upon themselves to show up the entire class."

Granger flushed an angry, blotchy red and looked down at her book. Draco was surprised to find himself angry when he saw the film of tears that were gathering in her eyes. Weasley's quill snapped between his fingers as he glared at the pink toad.

"You can't talk to Hermione like that." he snarled.

Umbridge turned her scary smile to him. "Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn. Mr. Weasley, control yourself."

"You can't just go around insulting students!" Weasley stood up, brilliantly red from the neck up. "Calling Hermione a brownnoser, and Harry a liar -"

"Mr. Potter has brought his dangerous lies to my school and is frightening the entire Wizarding World with them!" Umbridge said shrilly. "I will not tolerate it!"

"You don't have to. It's not _your_ school." Weasley said smugly. The classroom was silent. "It's _Dumbledore's_."

Draco hadn't thought a person could literally turn that shade of purple. "Detention, Mr. Weasley!" she shrieked. "My office, tonight at eight! Now sit _down_, and _do your work_!"

Face burning, yet with an odd look of satisfaction on his face, Weasley sat back down. Umbridge looked around the room, before her eyes landed on Draco. "I _will _have order." she said breathlessly. "Now, all of you - read your chapter."

Draco stared at the pages of his book, but he found himself rereading the same line over and over again. He couldn't concentrate, and it took him a while to figure out that it was because he was _angry_. How dare she talk to Granger like that when Granger was in the right? It was rude and unprofessional, and it was just plain mean.

He looked over to Granger, and wasn't surprised to see her quietly reading the chapter, looking pitiful and defeated as a kicked puppy. Draco felt a pang of guilt. She, Longbottom, and the Weasleys were the only ones so far in the entire bloody school who were even remotely kind to him at all. It wasn't fair to see her injured because of him - well, Potter.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he slipped his hand under the desk and grasped hers. She looked up from her book, and Draco tried his reassuring smile again. Granger smiled back, and squeezed his hand back thankfully. Her smile was much more reassuring than his, and it felt almost as if she was trying to tell _Potter_ that everything would be okay. As he turned back to his book to reread the words he had already read three times, Draco couldn't help but wonder what Potter had done to deserve such loyal friends.

"Foul, evil, horrible _cow_!" Weasley fumed as soon as they entered the common room after their last class. "She has no right, no _right_ - I swear, if I could get away with it -"

"Ron, calm down." Granger said tiredly. "It's not the worst thing she's called me, and it won't be the last. There's no use getting upset over it."

"She shouldn't have said anything." Draco commented dryly. Trying to be Potter wasn't all that hard, especially since Granger and Weasley bickered far too often for them to notice if anything was wrong. As long as he stayed quiet and commented once or twice about how Snape was horrible and Umbridge was evil, it was enough to placate them. He hadn't realized that Potter was so quiet around his friends.

"Even if it was true?" Finnegan shoved past Draco, smirking.

"Watch your mouth!" Weasley roared, whipping his wand out. "I'm a prefect, you arsewipe, I'll make your life hell!"

"Better than _her_ making my life hell." Finnegan laughed cruelly. "She'd try to shove stupid rubbish about house-elves down my throat the whole bloody time -"

He never finished his sentence. Granger's palm caught him across the face, and his head snapped to the side with an audible crack. Her hand left a bright red mark on his cheek, each finger perfectly distinguishable. The noisy common room fell silent, and the Gryffindors all watched the scene with wide eyes.

"I have to put up with _her_ bullshit." Granger said quietly. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had _never_ heard Granger curse before, not even when she punched him third year. "But I will _not_ put up with yours. I haven't done a single fucking thing to you, and I don't deserve to be treated as such, you depraved piece of _shit_!"

"You're _his_ little sidekick." Finnegan glared at Draco, holding his cheek. "You deserve what's coming for spreading his lies -"

"And how do you know they're lies?" Granger challenged.

"The _Prophet_ says -"

Granger laughed maliciously. "You mean the same _Prophet_ that _last year_ said Harry and I had a forbidden love affair? The one _you_ denounced as the biggest pile of bullshit you've ever read?"

Finnegan flushed angrily to match the mark on his (now swelling) cheek. "The Ministry even says he's lying!"

"The same Ministry that sent us that stupid bitch we have to call a teacher!" Granger's eyes flashed dangerously. With the bags under her eyes, the way her hair was falling out of place and frizzing like an unkempt broom, and the angry, malicious gleam in her eyes, she looked absolutely terrifying. "I _know_ you can't possibly like her any more than we do! For Merlin's sake, Seamus, use some common sense!"

Finnegan scowled at her. "And why should we believe some fag who can't stand up for himself?"

A collective gasp went around the room. Draco felt a surge of hate, and the next thing he knew, Finnegan was on the ground, straddled by a shock of red hair that seemed intent on melding his face with the floor.

Weasley let this go on for a few minutes before he and his older brothers set out to remove their sister from the Irish lad.

"_You son of a bitch_!" Weaslette screamed. "Let _go_! I'm gonna - _let go!_"

"Fuck off, Finnegan -" a twin snarled.

"- Before we decide where to stick this." His brother finished, fingering a wicked silver instrument lovingly.

Finnegan paled, and scrambled to his feet. Blood flowed freely from his nose, and his eyes were already turning black. He looked as if he was going to speak again.

"I'd leave, if I were you." Draco said icily, folding his arms over his chest. "Before I tell them to let her go."

Finnegan glared loathingly at him, but ran quickly from the common room out of the Fat Lady's portrait. Weaslette screamed obscenities at his retreating back.

"_You better run!_" she shrieked. "_I'll rip your dick off and shove it up your own arse, you fucking arsewipe!"_

"Gin, calm down!" Weasley grunted as her flailing elbow caught him in the gut. "He's gone!"

"But he called Harry - and he -" She bared her teeth, looking the part of a ferocious, bloodthirsty, scorned she-beast of some sort, but stopped struggling against her brother's arms. "Ooo, he makes me so mad! I wish I could just…just…_Oh!_"

"He does seem to have that effect on people." Draco scowled.

Weaslette mmm-hmm'ed an agreement, and managed to wrench herself from her three brothers' grips. Draco's estimation of her went up a few notches, considering her brothers were all quite a bit bigger than her.

Weasley looked between Granger and his sister, both of whom were still shaking with blind fury. "Merlin's pants! Sod the Order, we'll just send you two after You-Know-Who!"

"Finnegan should _die_." Weaslette seethed. She turned and gave Draco a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry he called you that! He is such an insensitive arse, I just wish I could hit him again!"

"I'm surprised you didn't hex him like last time," Weasley said, frowning at Draco.

"Er," Draco said eloquently. He didn't know what to do, seeing as Weaslette still hadn't let go of him. He settled for awkwardly placing his arms on her shoulders in a loose hug. She seemed satisfied, and let go, though she kept one arm looped through his.

"Don't be stupid, Ron, last time the bugger squealed and Harry got detention with the Toad for a week! Remember?" His sister huffed. "Right, Harry?"

"Right." Draco nodded once, hoping that he didn't seem too out of character.

Granger planted her hands on her hips and began pacing as the common room started buzzing about the fight they had just witnessed. No doubt by the next morning, the whole school would know how Finnegan had gotten his arse handed to him by the redheaded she-devil. Draco made a mental note to tell Blaise and Pansy to watch out for her, should he ever get his own body back. "We should be doing something about this."

"What would you _like_ us to do?" One of the twins asked. His brother - he had a _G_ on his sweater, he must be George - had pulled his sister away from Draco and was speaking quietly to Weaslette, calming her down. "So long, as the Ministry and the _Prophet_ control everything, people are going to hate Harry."

"He's right." Draco said, without thinking. He blushed when Granger looked at him sharply. "Well - I mean…" he scrambled. "Look at me -, er, Malfoy."

"Malfoy doesn't have any _real_ power -"

"His dad does," Weasley cut in, growing excited. "Remember? He got Harry to have a full Wizengamont trial for an underage magic appeal!"

Granger humph-ed. "So? That doesn't mean we can't change it!"

"Like it or not, that's how the world works." Draco said sourly. "And you can't change the world."

Granger fixed her gaze on Draco, and in that moment, caught under her piercing stare, he felt as if she knew who he was. "Well, why the hell not?"

* * *

I like this chapter. :) I know my uploads are a little slower than they used to be, but hopefully they'll pick up soon. I like this story so far, it's fun to write. And I do actually like Ginny, so in TTT, she's going to be portrayed much different. If anyone has suggestions, let me know! I may not use them, but it's always interesting to see what direction other people think the story'll go. If I do use an idea, or even if I get inspired by an idea, I will give credit to whoever gave it to me. :) So give it a shot! What do you have to lose?

Oh, and I just have to announce this to everyone I see today - _**I GOT INTO POTTERMORE! 3**_ I am SO psyched! =D

I want to once again thank everyone for the faves, alerts and reviews! They mean a lot to me, and feedback is much appreciated. =D Especially since I'm still recieving a fair amount of reviews for **Baby Mama Drama**! I've been pleasantly surprised by the amount of people who still enjoy the story enough to review on it! Thank you all so much! :D


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